


To Have Fortitude

by Damon_Ricky



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Bad slice of life, Cutting, Dark Theme, Depression, F/M, Gen, Healing, Hurting-self, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, suicide prevention
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-05
Updated: 2015-11-09
Packaged: 2018-04-30 04:57:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5151113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Damon_Ricky/pseuds/Damon_Ricky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“My name is Elias Lavellan, and I’m a suicide survivor.”</p>
<p>Solas had suspected since the day he checked on the Herald’s mark; there were deep scars on his wrist. Dorian always wondered why Elias would never take off his scarf even in the Western Approach. Lastly, the Iron Bull had saw right through him. The rest would be in deep shock, when knowing the Inquisitor struggles with depression.</p>
<p>Inspired by ----> The Spare written by Prodigal-san</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. My Attempt

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Prodigal San (yamiralikespotatoes)](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Prodigal+San+%28yamiralikespotatoes%29).
  * Inspired by [The Spare](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4711103) by [Prodigalsan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prodigalsan/pseuds/Prodigalsan). 



> “Did you really want to die? No one commits suicide because they want to die. Then why do they do it? Because they want to stop the pain.” – Tiffanie DeBartolo
> 
> This is inspired by the Spare, as you know by now, but this fic's motivation is response to a death in my family, who had committed suicide. I can't imagine how much pain my cousins are going through, and I am exploring why. I never had suicidal thoughts but I had thought it would be like this. Please do not take your life. There's always another way.

_._

_._

_._

_He remembered the day when he tried to take his life._

_He didn’t do it because he felt like it. He did it because it felt right. It felt like a sweet release from the place he was trapped in. Growing up, he was different. He was adopted into the Lavellan clan and after finding out he’s a mage, he becomes a third. A second is a second—a spare, but a third is simply nothing. A third is just simply there._

_And so he was there, more on the background._

_Ellana and Mahanon were right. There would be nothing for him to do._

_He was nothing._

_Banal was what the others used to call him. They used it to tease him, though Elias never wondered if they actually mean it. That word **nothing** was enough to be reinforced in his mind that he is nothing. Not like Ellana who is the first and not like Mahanon who is the second and the spare, but Elias himself is the third: just there and he does nothing._

_He was nothing._

_The afternoon light glinted off the dagger’s edge and Elias tested the sharpness of it. A soft press with his thumb and it cut him, bleeding slightly. The pain was relieving–––it offered him comfort. Pain always offered him comfort._

_He remembered the day when Mahanon had given him work: he was to gather herbs in the forest all on his own. Mahanon is the brother he never had before. They were the same age and they grew up together. He had never led him astray nor did he ever break his trust._

_That day though… when he did his work to gather herbs, he heard laughter and cheer nearby. He followed the source of the sound and spotted all the other elves of his age, playing in the water and splashing at each other. Mahanon and Ellana were both with them._

_Now that he thought about it, it was pretty childish of him to be feel left out._

_Wasn’t it?_

_Yet, the memory of them having fun without him hurt him to the core, knowing that Mahanon had send him away so that they wouldn’t see them playing. He figured that maybe the others didn’t want him around, so Ellana and Mahanon didn’t want to hurt his feelings and instead send him out. But why didn’t they refuse to play and stay with him instead?_

_He knew why._

_He was nothing compared to others._

_The others were more important than him because he himself is nothing._

_Weeks passed and Elias felt like it was getting worse. He had heard an elder talking to the Keeper about sending Elias to another clan because they have too many mages. Having four mages in the clan is asking for trouble, and the elder had suggested Elias to go. Elias had pretended to be so busy he didn’t hear anything, but a couple of tears had fell from his eyes._

_While he was cutting the herbs however, he had cut himself, and the odd painful sensation felt… good. It relieved the ache that was harboring his heart._

_So now, every time that he was sent out to gather herbs or do any sort of chore, he brought a dagger with him. Anytime his heart was hurting, he would carve his wrist in a row of horizontal marks, leaving a lovely pattern so that it would be a nice intricate scar._

_He had brought bandages with him and leather cuffs to hide the scars._

_Mahanon and Ellana were starting to get suspicious of the bandages but they never asked. Perhaps they should have._

_Then, one day, he had_ enough _._

_The last straw was felt when the others had approached him, asking him if he was going to leave the clan soon._

_“Why do I have to leave soon?” Elias had asked and the others snicker._

_“They said that you were going on a journey on your own.”_

_Elias was very confused as his things were already packed for him, and they were urging him and forcing him to leave, saying their heartless goodbyes. Then Keeper Deshanna, Mahanon, and Ellana soon came to break up the commotion. They cleared up the confusion and it seemed like that one of the others had told a nasty lie._

_That one lie was the last straw._

_It was enough said that they didn’t want him here._

_He wasn’t needed._

_The Keeper, Ellana, and Mahanon didn’t need a third._

_He had thought of leaving, but he knew he would die alone in the forest. He had thought of letting a demon possess him, and despite how much he wanted to hurt them, he knew he couldn’t. He loved them too much, and love was painful._

_There was nothing wrong with them._

_There was something wrong with him that they didn’t like._

_He was the wrong._

_He was the mistake._

_He is nothing._

_He placed the edge of the dagger upon his throat, the cold blade stung his warm skin a bit. He already felt it pricking the flesh when he placed more pressure on to it._

_“ELIAS!” He heard his name…_

_NO! They will not stop him!_

_Elias forced the blade and sliced his throat, feeling the thick hot liquid pour out and drenched his shirt. He fell to the ground and he saw Mahanon and Ellana hovering over him, working to heal him quickly._

_He watched Ellana crying as she pressed her hands on to his neck. Mahanon was yelling something and at someone that Elias couldn’t see, before the Second grabbed a cloth and pressed it down on his neck._

_No…_

_Please don’t save me…_

.

.

.

.

It’s been two weeks since it happened, and they had not let him be.

“Could you grind these embrium? It would do well to add it in the Keeper’s soup,” Ellana said to him as she handed him the embrium plants. They were cooking lunch for everyone together, and they were going to make a stew. Ellana was making a separate special pot only for their ill-Keeper.

She had fallen sick since their return from Arlathvan; it was decided that Mahanon would be sent to the Conclave and to spy on the proceedings. They needed to know the results so they can be prepared for the future. However, they hoped it would mean that the Templar and Mage war would end.

Elias didn’t respond but he did it anyway, grinding the plant in utter silence.

Ever since his first attempt at suicide, he tried again the day after the next. He had been trying to kill himself, and they would not let him. They took away his staff, anything sharp he possessed, and they had him leashed with at least one person. He was forbidden to ever be alone, so Ellana and Mahanon were with him around the clock, taking shifts or doing a shift together.

All just to make sure Elias wouldn’t make another attempt.

They didn’t understand. They couldn’t possibly understand.

When Elias tried to offer himself to go spy at the Conclave, Mahanon shot him down and volunteered to go himself.

_“I am the third and you are the second! You have more responsibilities than I do!” Elias had argued with him._

_“That maybe so, but when I go, you take over my duties, because, at least, I am planning to come back home alive.”_

And of course, Ellana went against Elias and joined Mahanon’s side. The Keeper agreed that Mahanon was to go, because at least he had some incentive to come back home and report the progress.

They didn’t trust him anymore to do things alone.

Lunch was almost ready when hunters ran up to them and told them of the incident: Mahanon had fallen off a cliff and broke his leg. Now, the clan had no choice: Ellana is stuck in the clan because the Keeper is sick, Mahanon has his leg broken, and Elias had no responsibilities.

Elias had to go.

That late night, the Keeper had decided that Elias is to go.

Mahanon fought and argued, but to no avail.

Silence dread the clan that night, and Elias went into his aravel where Mahanon was lying down on his cot with his broken leg propped up.

Mahanon stirred and he turned to see Elias. “…Elias.”

Elias nodded to him and he went over to him, sitting next to his cot.

“…I’m leaving for the Conclave tomorrow.”

He shook his head; his eye showing sadness. “You will die…”

“…I…will not.”

“You’re uncertain.”

“Perhaps… but I’ll make a promise now, brother... I’ll come back home alive.”

“See that you do. Or I will find you myself in the endless dream and kick your ass.”

It was a joke meant to lighten things, and Elias understood that, but he only nodded. He didn’t smile or anything, but either way, he needed this. He needed to go. He needed to feel… needed.

Mahanon frowned at him. “…Please, keep safe, Elias… I know that… we’ve been imprisoning you and we’ve been extremely overbearing, but… that is because we care about you, El. We love you… so much.”

His words stung him deeply and he couldn’t help but to bitterly think: _Where were you then when I was hurting?_

Instead, his face became a blank expression.

“I know… and I love you all too. That is why I must go.” Now that isn’t a lie. He did love them, and he would miss them dearly.

Elias went away now to gather his things. Of course, he had already had his things packed for the journey, but he planned to leave tonight. He picked up the red scarf that Ellana gave him earlier and he wrapped it around his neck, hiding the jagged scar.

He was ready.

When he left the clan, the loneliness only grew.

.

.

.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey I just… finished typing this in like 2 in the morning. Sorry if the grammar’s off. This chapter is a little darker than the previous, I think.  
> Please if you are having suicidal thoughts, call the suicide hotline or tell someone!  
> This fic is a struggle to recovery from depression.

.

.

.

.

_The day when the Conclave exploded?_

_Elias wished he died in it too._

_But no, Fate decided to put him in a crueler path than just being the only survivor of the explosion. He also had to be the only one that could close the rifts._

_He remembered how he had awaken in the fade physically. He was chased by spiders and he ran for his life. He didn’t want to be eaten by spiders and plus, he was bitten by a spider before. He didn’t enjoy having poison running through his veins, making him sick. Then, there was a woman on top of a hill, and he climbed that hill to get to her. He wondered why he was so desperate to live, and even had a lingering sad feeling of her––whoever she was._

_Then he was blinded by a strange light that made his body weary and exhausted. He passed out again when he saw shemlen running towards him._

_The next time he woke up, he was in a cell._

_The Seeker Cassandra and the Spymaster Leliana––he learned their names later––walked in and started interrogating him._

_“…Everyone who attended the Conclave is dead… except for_ you _.”_

_He found her not so threatening. “…Why don’t you finish the job then?”_

_SLAP!_

_She had backhanded across the face, and the stinging pain shook off the remaining lethargy in his body, making him more awake and more alive. Elias wasn’t mad, he was actually happy the Seeker had done that to him. Pain. He needed the pain even if his face was bruised._

_The woman hit hard._

_“You will be in a minute,” she stated then she harshly grabbed his wrist. “Explain_ this. _”_

_Elias glanced down and he soon noticed the mark. It was aching and throbbing. He liked the feeling._

_Of course, he didn’t say that. “It looks like my hand is glowing.”_

_“What do you mean–… Do you think this is a joke?!” She lunged at him and began to throttle him. He had to admit, he was fucking scared of her in that moment, but then he also thought that she could kill him now if he kept at it._

_If he kept getting her mad…_

_“You’ve already placed the blame on me, so what’s the point on humoring you,_ Shem?! _” He fired back. He knew this fight so well––the blame. The blame would always be on him, and he learned to stop defending himself long ago. “Besides, it’s been a minute now and I’m still breathing!”_

_Kill me!_

_This time she went for his blade but immediately, the Red Head Spymaster reached out, stopping her._

_“We need him, Cassandra,” she said firmly to the warrior and the Seeker let out a frustrated groan as she forced herself to part from the irritating elf._

_Leliana took a step toward him, scrutinizing him with the eyes of a hawk._

_“You seem very eager to die.” She pointed out._

_“I see no point wasting time if you shemlen are going to kill me either way.” Elias tactfully responded. There’s no point sharing his depression with a human._

_She raised only a brow before she straightened up, asking, “Do you remember anything? When the Conclave exploded..?”_

_Elias felt like withholding such information, but then again there was not much to hold on to. He decided to tell her since she was kinder than the other woman, not that it mattered. They were going to kill him either way._

_He told her what he could recall, and she seemed interested of the woman he mentioned._

_“Go, Leliana. I will take him to the rift.”_

_Rift? Elias wondered as the Seeker led him out…_

_And he saw the biggest gaping hole in the sky that led into the world of the fade. The Seeker explained that this breach caused many rifts to appear, and thus bringing more demons from the fade into the waking world. If they didn’t close the breach soon, all of Thedas would soon be gone._

_He was needed._

_He agreed for now to help, hoping that in the long run, this mark would kill him once he would close the breach. He had his dislikes and likes of the mark. First off, it was killing him and it was hurting him––the two things he enjoyed the most. What he disliked of the mark was that it was killing him too slow and that second reason came later…_

_A bridge collapsed on them and demons appeared. Cassandra charged to fight, unaware that another demon appeared, going after the elf._

_Now, Elias wasn’t one for fighting, but he studied being a force mage. Usually, he had used it only when there was blockage or that they were excavating an elven ruin. In this situation, he was using his magic to fight._

_Fight… it was something he never did._

_For a moment, he had considered letting the demon just end him right there. All he had to do was stand still and the demon would claw him. He could die. He can––Then, Mahanon’s face popped up in his head, and immediately he sidestepped––the attack narrowly missing him._

_Damn it, Mahanon, he thought bitterly._

_He held his hand out and he crushed the demon to the ground with gravity, instantly killing it._

_Once the demons cleared out, Cassandra marched up to him._

_“Put your weapon down. Now!”_

_Elias blinked and he looked at the random staff he picked up. After a moment, he dropped the staff and it clattered unto the ice; he made no arguments with her. However, he’ll not pick up another weapon. Maybe this time, he’ll just let the demons kill him since the Seeker didn’t trust him._

_No one trusted him._

_So if he dies when a demon gets him because he didn’t have a staff, then the consequences will be on the Seeker’s head._

_They were about to continue but she stopped after taking a step forward._

_“Wait!” she said, turning to him. “Pick it back up.”_

_Elias raised a brow. “…What?”_

_The Seeker sighed. “Pick it up… You need it. I can’t expect you to be defenseless if I’m not able to protect you… I should remember you came willingly to help.”_

_For a moment, his heart swelled a bit that she paid attention, but then the feeling diminished. He remembered that she only needed him for the mark on his hand._

_They went through all the treacherous snowy path with all the demons lurking. She had said that they came out of the rifts and right now, she was taking him to one. They walked up a snowy trail, and there he first saw the rift. A tear in the fabric of the veil, opening up into the fade, letting demons out._

_He saw some shemlen humans, an elf, and a dwarf fighting a horde of demons on their own, surrounding the green rift. Things weren’t looking too good._

_“We must help them!”_

_They charged in to fight against the demons. Elias had no problems crushing demons, sending them flying, or pulling them close to him before he would stab it with the staff’s end blade. He saw two demons ganging up on the elf and he rushed over. He held out his hand, and executed a force blast, sending the demons flying. One of them flew to Cassandra and the Seeker aimed her blade out, letting it land through her blade. The other recovered and screeched before an arrow bolt went right through its skull._

_Elias was about to go away but then the elf that he had just defended grabbed his glowing left hand._

_“Quick! Before more will come!”_

_He shoved the Third’s hand into the veil tear and he felt a connection. He felt like he was attached to it––drawn to it. The Elf pulled his hand, wanting him to let go of it. Elias almost refused but he pulled him back harshly and the rift exploded, closing._

_“What did you do?” Elias immediately demanded._

_“I did nothing. The credit is yours.” The elf was smiling._

_He raised his glowing hand. “…You mean this damn thing?”_

_“Whatever opened the breach, that same power has been given to you,” he explained. “It seems that you hold the key to our salvation.”_

_Elias felt instant confusion. Him? A key to their salvation? He had tuned them out as the Seeker, the elf, and the dwarf were now talking. He hardly paid attention to what they were saying as all he was thinking… Why him? Why did he survive the explosion? Why was he the one with this mark? Why didn’t he just die?_

_Why can’t he kill himself now?_

_“––Varric Tethras.” Elias now turned to the dwarf, noticing that he was talking to him and introducing himself. Then he and the Seeker argued a bit._

_The elf beside him spoke, “I am Solas, if there are to be introductions.”_

_Elias nodded to him and he looked up at the giant rift in the sky called the Breach._

_“…Wouldn’t that kill me?” He asked, stopping them from talking. “Wouldn’t we need a lot of power to close the breach?”_

_Solas seemed impress by this elf’s speculation. “It… might, but then it wouldn’t.”_

_“We need you to try,” Cassandra said, pressing and she took a step forward. “If we can’t close this Breach, many innocent people will die and–––”_

_He cut her off. “I got it. I’m the scapegoat.”_

_She sputtered, “No. That’s not––!”_

_“I’m the one with the mark that can close these rifts,” He cut her off again, not giving her a chance to explain. He only continued, “I’m the knife–ear that happened to survive an explosion that killed everyone in the Conclave, even the person who’s supposed to have been able to end the Mage and Templar War. Everyone hates me to the core for killing love–ones and the beloved Divine Justinia–––even if I say I didn’t do it, no one would believe me. Not any of you.”_

_He was angry and sad. Angry because once again he is treated this way again. The scapegoat, the one to be sacrificed, the one that has to go. Sad because he knew this since the moment we woke up. He didn’t know how, but he knew he was going to die for something._

_He was the scapegoat in the clan and in the shemlen world._

_Nothing has changed._

_He is not the key to their salvation. He is nothing._

_Cassandra kept trying, “That’s––! …We can prove your innocence! Once you close the breach, we would––”_

_“You_ can’t _protect me, Seeker––Not from_ every _demon…and I’m not just talking about the ugly ones either,” He told her, and she had no words to protest. Her mouth was open but no words could leave her lips to defend her promise. Not even Solas could offer any words of assurance or comfort––nor could he lie to a Dalish that had very realistic, pessimistic views. He’s right. Elias could die from this._

_Then the dwarf said, “…A lot of people are counting on you though.”_

_“Why me?”_

_“You have the mark.” Solas pointed out._

_“And you are the one we need right now,” Cassandra followed up. “…It’s selfish. It’s unfair. Even for me, and for everyone else, and especially for you… but you are needed. We need you.”_

_Need. She said._

_A nothing like him was needed?_

_This was pure comedy. They didn’t need him. NO. They needed the MARK. All this started because of this mark that something placed upon his hand. He didn’t ask for this! He didn’t want to do this! He shouldn’t have to do anything at all. He should just get it over with––slice his own throat again!_

_Then, something inside of him was whispering in a slight glimmer of hope. The word need also provoked a daring thought:_ he is not truly nothing.

_He is nothing_.

But not truly.

_That whisper made him feel like he was worth something, but at the same time, he didn’t need it. He didn’t want it. He wanted to die._

_Closing the breach… even if he didn’t or not, he would die either away._

_He prayed for it. He needed it._

_Elias did not respond to their words. He only finished, saying, “…Let’s go. We’re wasting time.”_

_._

_._

_._

_._

Elias took the dagger and he slowly started to cut his left wrist. The sharpened blade easily sliced through his pale skin, and a stream of blood red liquid poured out steadily. He took in a breath before releasing it in a sigh of relief. The pain was stinging and it numbed the throbbing of the mark. At first, he liked the constant pain, but then it became dull. He wanted more than just its humming and its fluctuating strikes of pain. He wanted to control the feeling of pain and relief.

This dagger helped him take control.

He traced the scars long healed, opening them again into fresh wounds. His body shuddered, feeling a sudden high––endorphins rushing through his bloodstream. Eyes rolled as he leaned back into the chair…

He was about to cut deeper.

_Knock, knock!_

He stopped, immediately putting away the blade and hiding his bleeding arm.

“Your Worship? Seeker Cassandra wishes to speak to you in the Chantry!”

“I’ll be there.” Elias responded with a very calm tone before he heard the messenger stomp away in the snow.

It’s been a couple of weeks since he had closed the Breach. Disappointingly so, he had lived. It would have been better if he was dead, rather than waking up to be the humans’ herald–––a herald of their own god. He wasn’t even Andrastian. He didn’t believe in the maker. He never wanted to be a part of this–––this Inquisition, but he also didn’t want to leave that breach up there. Some part of him believed that it was his duty to finish what he had started. He even cemented a deal with Chancellor Roderick that if he would close the breach a second time, he promise to go with him for trial in Val Royeaux before being executed––which shocked both the Seeker and the Spymaster. He didn’t know why they should care.

That’s right. They cared for the mark. There were rifts everywhere and it was his duty to close them all.

Shit. Just… shit.

Elias quickly patched up his wounds, healing them to stop the bleeding before wrapping up his wrists in bandages. He already had bandages before on his wrists so no one questioned why he had them. He was almost found out though, when he was in a short coma, the healers had taken off his scarf so they could treat him well. When he was asked later about it, he told them it was from an enemy attack: a human.

Creators, he was a hypocrite. Humans were blaming him and he was also blaming humans on things that they didn’t do to him. Great.

_Knock, knock!_

Elias sighed. “I have already said I’ll meet with the Seeker!”

He assumed it was another messenger, but he was wrong.

“It is only me, Da’len.” _Solas_.

“Come in!” Elias said and when the elf walked in, he started, “I am sorry, I thought you were the messenger again.”

“What does the Seeker need of you now?” Solas asked as he walked across the room, inspecting the place. It was neat. Very neat, and even the bed as if he never slept on it.

“To meet with the advisors of the Inquisition, now that I am an agent of the Inquisition and their _Herald-puppet_. …We all must play our parts right, must we…?” Elias mumbled bitterly, and he placed his gloves on and put on his boots. “I am sorry, Solas, but we will speak later if you do not mind?”

“I do not. Please do seek me out later. We haven’t talk since that day you close the breach, but you avoided everyone.” Solas pointed out.

“I’m… not a people-person.”

“I can see that.”

Elias sighed, not even bothering to argue back. “I will seek you out later, Solas. Have a good day.”

With that, the Herald left the cabin and once the door was shut, Solas investigated the room, scrutinizing every area. Ever since that day when he was trying to save Elias from being killed by the mark upon his hand, he had noticed the bandages. He uncovered those bandages, and found deep scars.

Though they were a bit faded, he knew those scars were intentional.

It shouldn’t be any of Solas’ business, but it happened to be his business in the end. The Dalish mage carries the mark––the mark that could save them all from this madness.

He looked around a bit more and he opened the drawer…

He found a bloody knife.

Shocked. He was shocked and in disbelief. He had heard that some people would do self-harm, because they were emotionally distressed beings that had no clue on how to express it. They couldn’t find an outlet but once they had felt physical pain, some of them would…enjoy it. It releases them from the ache deep inside them––the empty sorrow that lingered. They felt nothing.

They wanted to feel something, and that was pain.

Solas had just never thought… The elf looked young. He looked too young.

Why would he do this?

Quietly, he closed the drawer and he looked back at the door where Elias had exit through.

Why?

He left through that door, thinking…how should he approach this?

.

.

.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: I figured Solas is not that dense. He would suspect it so, and now he has evidence that the Inquisitor was cutting before, and even now, he is still cutting. Question is what is Solas going to do with this little knowledge?  
> I decided to do a bit of Solas and Lavellan friendship for Prodigal San.  
> Hope you all like it!

**Author's Note:**

> Don’t do it.  
> Call 1-800-273-TALK (8255)  
> –––From the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline.


End file.
